Dinner's at Six
by gluon
Summary: Rachel provokes Mr. Schue.  He rises to the occasion.


Author's notes: The Rachel Berry in my Rachel-Will stories is not the same person as depicted in _Glee_ (at least as of 1/1/11). She's not a virgin, having had a long sexual affair with Finn and/or sex at summer theater camps (referred to in one story as a "cesspool of sexual depravity" but probably no worse than many Baptist church camps). As a result, she's confident, self-possessed, not in the least insecure, and well aware of her talent, looks, and brains. She has a higher IQ and more talent than Will, and is his psychological equal. She is always the aggressor, and he is the more vulnerable in the relationship.

To see an affair between a high school girl and a teacher depicted realistically and seriously in a movie, watch not _Election_, but _The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, _featuring one of the greatest characterizations in cinematic history by the wonderful Maggie Smith, who won an Oscar for the eponymous role.

…

"Hi, Mr. Schue. Are you busy? Mind if I come in?"

"Hi, Rachel. Take a seat. I'm never too busy to talk to _you_."

"It's sweet of you to say that, Mr. Schue. Tell me, would it bother you very much to know I'm not wearing panties now?"

"Isn't that TMI?"

"Not really. In fact, it isn't any information at all, it's a question."

"I think it would be reasonable to infer from your question that you are sans underwear at present. The real question is not the one you posed but why you asked it in the first place. I can only assume you're trying to provoke me in some way. It's not like you, Rachel. Do you promise to behave yourself, or should I call security?"

"Mr. Schue, this is a suburban school. There _is_ no security. Of course, you _could_ call Principle Principle, but he'd shut down glee. You could call the head counselor, but there's no way she'd enter a room when there was at least a 10% chance one of the occupants wasn't wearing underwear. You could call the Cheerios coach, but she'd just get her iPhone and upload the whole scene to YouTube after which Principle Principle would shut down glee. You could call the other glee kids, but when it was learned I wasn't wearing panties it would result in a sex orgy in which someone is bound to get hurt because your office isn't large enough for that kind of activity and the screams of Kurt and the girls would bring the Cheerios coach with her iPhone and… well you know the drill. I'm sorry, you're just going to have to deal with the situation yourself. You should be an expert at this by now. After all, this can't be the first time a girl has come into your office to either show and/or tell something regarding the current or prospective absence of her undergarments. Mind you, I'm not saying you are proactively encouraging that behavior, but if you're going to insist on being so adorable, it's bound to happen from time to time. Modern high school girls can be denied sex by handsome teachers only so long before they snap."

"Have _you_ finally snapped, Rachel? Is that what's happened? Have you gone berserk? Since when does a teacher, no matter how cute or handsome or talented or wavy-haired, _owe_ any of his students sex?"

"Calm down, Will. You're raising your voice and you wouldn't want any of the people I mentioned before to come running down here. I haven't snapped and you're in no danger. In fact, I've never been more sane or lucid. Before I go on, would you care to verify the inference you made regarding my underpants? I could just raise my mini-skirt slowly like this…"

"Stop! I don't need to verify anything but your sanity right now."

"Please sit down, Will. Trust me, you really do need to sit down. You have just verified something, and it isn't about my supposed nakedness, it's about what the idea of it does to _you_."

[_Long pause_]

"I'm truly sorry Will, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I went too far. I'm guilty, as charged, of provoking you. I did it to make a point, to force a discussion of a difficult topic. I don't have a crush on you. I love you. Does that make me crazy?"

"Loving someone, even your teacher, does not by itself indicate you're crazy. However, whether and how you act on it could be a sign, if not of outright insanity, possibly of neurosis or of great immaturity."

"Yes, I agree, it _could_, but not necessarily. Teacher-student affairs are as old as the hills. I'll admit it's sometimes because a teacher uses his position of authority to seduce a student. That's unethical and immoral. Sometimes it's a barter of grades for sex with both parties understanding and agreeing to the deal. That's also unethical. Sometimes there's no barter, just good old-fashioned consensual sex. But a lot of the time when it occurs it's for the same reason marriages do: there's a meeting of minds and bodies, a sharing of common interests and desires. A teacher and a serious student have, by definition, at least one area of interest in common. But when it's a great teacher and a once-in-a-generation student in a subject they both care passionately about, if they're both unattached, if there is mutual physical attraction and respect, it could be almost unnatural in some cases if they _didn't_ connect. Do you know that sometimes when we work together on glee, or I have just sung or you have, I want to hug and kiss you so badly it hurts? And it's not because I'm sexually aroused. And sometimes, in those moments, I look at you and believe you're feeling the same things. Love and passion, once they're turned on in a person, for whatever reason, are not so easily contained, they can flow from one thing to another, and it's real and legitimate all the same. When it happens, a couple caught up in it should at least be prepared to accept and treasure it without shame. What woman have _you_ ever known that generated such emotions in you, that had as many interests in common with you as I do? Oh, by the way, you can count Shelby if you want. I know all about your heavy breathing session."

[_Medium_ _Pause_]

"No one has, not even your mother. [_Rueful smile_] Your apple fell pretty close to her tree, though."

"I take that as a compliment, Will. Thanks. And music, apparently, isn't the only thing I share with dear old mom, is it? I didn't need to lift my skirt to know I attract you physically. Deny it, I dare you. I double dare you."

"I won't deny it. [_Sigh_]"

"I want you to imagine something, Will. Imagine that what I said when I came in is true, that I'm not wearing panties. Imagine that I don't merely lift my skirt, but remove it completely along with the rest of my clothes. Imagine that we have sex, Will, great sex, the kind that you might get from a brilliant, immensely talented, sexually experienced, intensely passionate, incredibly horny, young, ok, very young, woman who loves you. Imagine that afterward she presses her cute, warm, soft, sweet, sexy body against you. Do you know what you'll have had, Will? Not as much as you think. An appetizer. That's all. It's afterward that the main course will be served. It's then that I'll listen to you, know and care about everything you say, tell _you_ things you know and care about, make you believe, because I believe, that what you do is more important than what 90% of all people in the country do and that what you have done already is monumental. Now, do you _still_ think I'm crazy, that I've snapped, that I've gone berserk?"

"No, I guess not."

"Has any woman ever given you what you know _I_ can?"

"No."

"Did you realize you weren't getting it all those years with Terri? Did you regret not having it?"

"Yes, I knew what was missing. I thought other things could make up for it, but I was wrong. In a way, Terri understood me better than I did myself. She told me on our last night that the only reason our marriage worked was because I didn't feel good about myself. Now here _you_ are, wanting me to like myself as much as _you_ like me, completely, unconditionally. Yes, it _is_ compelling. Yes, I think you _are _wonderful. Yes, I've wanted to kiss you more often than I've cared to admit."

"On your way home tonight, Will, please go buy two nice small steaks, vegetables you like, and a decent red wine. What time should I come to you?"

"Six."

"Six it will be."

"You _are_ wearing panties, aren't you Rachel? That's a very short skirt."

"I'm a Method actress, Will. _Ciao_."


End file.
